


The Taste of Tragedy

by Anonymous



Series: stuffing fics in suspiciously niche fandoms [1]
Category: The Importance of Being Earnest - Wilde
Genre: Accidental Incest, Angst, Guilt, M/M, Stuffing, Weight Gain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:54:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26192257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Algy and Jack were lovers, but having discovered they are actually brothers, Algy eats his feelings, and realises he might never stop.And a warning that it is a kinkfic. Mostly stuffing, though quite rushed (because I’ve never written it before) with a hint towards weight gain at the end. If it’s not your thing, you almost definitely won’t like it, trust me.
Relationships: Algernon "Algy" Moncrieff/John "Jack" Worthing
Series: stuffing fics in suspiciously niche fandoms [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2194716
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22
Collections: Anonymous





	The Taste of Tragedy

**Author's Note:**

> So I recently viewed an online video of an old VHS tape… of an old television broadcast… of an old recording… of an old live production… of The Importance of Being Earnest. This particular production took place in Sydney’s Theatre Royal in — as I take it — 1992. It didn’t have the best muffin scene, but… it was good enough to get me to write this monstrosity **(which isn’t very good, because I’ve never actually written anything for this kink before)** after quite a long time of planning it.
> 
> And another thing I wanted to mention. I draft for this kink a lot, but I never actually post anything. It’s too nerve-wracking and I feel like a creep even thinking about it. So I’d appreciate it that if this isn’t your jam, you just don’t judge me. I know it’s written fairly poorly too, so I’m sorry about that as well.

Algy had been under a great deal of stress for some time now, what with the secrets pertaining to Jack and the tough business of negotiating a partnership with Cecily… and this whole  _ blood brother  _ business was more or less the last straw! It was thoroughly humiliating, to be sure. That, and while  _ his  _ feelings had not changed (something which he was decidedly disgusted and ashamed at himself over) he was most certain Jack’s— no,  _ Ernest _ ’s would have. 

When Algy was under stress it was bad news for the kitchen. Lane was so tragically good at anticipating his master’s requests. Algy didn’t even have to ask to be given what he felt he needed so terribly. (He didn’t really need it at all, but that is a matter for another day.)

So he found himself on the floor, surrounded by distractions. And by  _ distractions _ , what is truly meant is  _ plates and bowls of food _ . 

Though Algernon would profess he didn’t like teacake, he didn’t dislike all forms of cake, really. Mudcake or angelcake weren’t so bad, and even if he didn’t like either of them, it wouldn’t matter. When he was in this state, he didn’t care what he fancied or didn’t fancy; he just wanted to stuff his stupid face until he couldn’t think anymore. 

So that’s what he did. He shovelled cake into his mouth with his fingers, and when he was done with the last sweet crumbs, he hiccupped pitifully and sobbed. He felt sick, and full already. But he kept on eating as though he were ravenous. First, now, the bread and butter. PLain and filling and making his midsection stick out just a little more as he ignored his body’s warnings and urges to stop before he burst. 

He just kept on filling himself up. Feverishly, almost, he attacked the plate of sandwiches. He unbuttoned his waistcoat, breathlessly, and hiccupped relentlessly through the tray of biscuits. When he managed to get down what remained of yesterday’s steak-and-kidney pie, he had to unbutton his trousers and lean back to give his stomach the extra room it demanded. 

Only then could he fit more. His breaths were short and sharp. His stomach protrude from below his ribs with its fullness as it twinged painfully, but it was rock-solid to the touch. After a burp, he managed more biscuits, and then he tipped back as much milk as he could, choking down the swallows, before he tearfully collapsed, barely able to breathe at all, gorged and stomach straining with the spoils of his ungodly gluttony. 

Now he truly seemed to be as pathetic as he felt. Just as the door opened, and someone gasped. 

“Algy,” Jack said, falling to his knees beside the fallen, glutted man. “Poor boy. Why did you do this to yourself?”

Algy couldn’t speak. But he did manage another sandwich, before the plate was snatched away. 

“My dear Algy, I know it was a foolish question,” Jack confessed. “”It’s entirely horrible to find out that after all this time, a man’s lover has truly been his brother. We can sort this out, I know we can. But… I’m sure you know as well as I do that we’ll have to… break it off. Break  _ us  _ off.”

At those words, Algernon’s heart broke. He resigned himself to do nothing but eat for the rest of his life, and knew in that moment he was destined to be the heaviest man in London — his only method of mending heartache would see to that. 


End file.
